Copyright Kelly St. Clare 2016
Had they really just been celebrating mere minutes ago?
Romy heard the cries of her knot as they were battered relentlessly.
She was going to die. Her knot was going to die.
Metal screeched and the heat was immense as their craft continued to burn. She could feel the heat even through the padding of her suit. Romy pushed back, gripping her harness tightly as she turned her head away from the scorching fire outside.
The keening of buckling alloy was unbearable, overriding all except the peeling heat. Romy was going to melt alive. Eyes streaming, she squinted through the tiniest of gaps in the flames.
Her breath caught as she saw it, truly saw it for the first time. How beautiful their world was. The swirl of blues and greens.
All of this could have been theirs, in time.
The battler let out a splintered scream and all the air was crushed from her as she was hurled to one side. A network of cracks splintered the visor of her helmet with the immense pressure. Her head throbbed, a sharpness stinging at her right temple.
Black edged her vision. Where were the others?
Romy was at the mercy of the descent with no idea of up or down. Her world was blistering pain; her orientation shredded, her calm obliterated. Tears streamed from her eyes until what remained of her sight was blurred beyond use.
Soon it would be over.